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MY FATHER RAISES his hand and the legions of Corrupted take a knee. With a curl of his fingers, they disappear as the fabric of existence strains and tears in a thousand places. His darkness comes.
Feel this power, my son. It is for you. The power of Creation would take you for itself, greedy and dull. But Destruction? We can master. Most warriors would be erased to sense it, but not you. Beneath all you know or perceive is the Void. Beneath all that is. End your pain. You can end your pain. Be as limitless as the Void. Join me, my son. Join me or die.
I am removed from time. Nothing. I see, hear, smell nothing. You have taken her from me. Her warmth and light, the fullness of her body.
Now, its absence calls you here but you cannot have me. You cannot. If I embrace the Void, it will be only to destroy you.
Pellus crested the hill behind the dwellings on the Stream side of Covalent City. He took a quick look around before he disappeared into the ultraviolet slash of the kinetic rift. Worry over his heartbroken warrior had driven him to disregard the conditions of his duty and journey to the Earthly Realm. Caught in the stream of dark energy, he enjoyed a few moments of blissfully clear mind as his consciousness was consumed by the task of travel. Then he stepped into the earthly morning and toward Barakiel’s door.
All the curtains were drawn. As was his custom, Pellus knocked lightly before he entered. He found Barakiel sitting in the chair by the empty fireplace. He had no coffee. He read no newspaper. He sat rigidly, staring straight ahead. He didn’t look at Pellus.
“Barakiel, what is wrong?” The warrior didn’t answer. Pellus stood in front of him.
“Barakiel! Why are you sitting like that? You are still as death.”
“She will not come home.”
Well, of course, Zan. Demon take her.
“What happened?”
“She thinks her feelings for me are a weakness.” He stared with dull eyes. “Perhaps she is right. She would have the same feelings for any Covalent. She merely feels that power.”
I have seen him dazed, crying. Sobbing even. But this? This is worse.
“I have never seen you like this.”
“All those women in my past, I did not love them,” Barakiel said. “With Zan, I thought I had finally found a place to belong. To her body, in her mind. But she has told me I do not belong.”
He sat as lifeless as a statue. Pellus could not bear it.
It is not right.
“No, no, no, she loves you. Zan loves you, not just the power of the Covalent. You do belong to her. You belong to each other.”
With a ponderous movement of his head, Barakiel looked at Pellus. “Why do you say this? You never wanted me to be with her.”
“I cannot bear to see you this way. You do not deserve it. I must tell you. I—” Pellus concentrated on the shreds of light that pushed through the curtains. He needed to be calm. “Balance help me, when I was with the two of you, I saw it.”
“What? What did you see?”
“When you touch, everything of what you are moves in rhythm and harmony, one with the other. Your vibrations, they become the same. She loves you. She loves you more than she knows.”
Barakiel stared at Pellus. A faint spark played in his eyes, the first small flame of an essential fire.
Yes. Leave behind that dead despair.
“I thought it was my imagination.” Barakiel’s gaze shifted to the floor. “I thought I had made it up as part of a childish, desperate dream.”
“What do you mean? What did you imagine?”
The warrior snapped his head back up, his chin jutting out. “Why did you keep this from me?”
“Why do you think?” Pellus cast his eyes about the room. “Please forgive me, Barakiel. I was afraid you would tell her everything. And then, once she knew and she left you, I hoped you would forget her. I sought to avoid your anger.” His face grew hot. He paced.
“I am sorry. I was weak,” he said. “I tried to stop it. I do not know who I think I am. As if I could have any effect on so profound a love. I am frightened for you, but I cannot stand to see you in such pain.”
“Do you understand now? I need her,” Barakiel said.
“Perhaps you do.”
“She said, ‘I’m putting down the drug,’ as if our love is nothing more than physical.” The warrior’s grimace begged for an explanation.
“Give her time, Barakiel. She has been hurt as well. At my foolish insistence you were not honest with her, and now her whole world has been torn apart. Her reality is gone. She moves in a world she thought she knew, but nothing is as she has been told. The monsters and heroes of human myth arise before her as flesh. Who could go on as if nothing had happened? She needs time, but she loves you. She loves you so fiercely its power has a physical manifestation. I would not have thought it possible. She is not Covalent. Yet it is there.”
“She will come back to me?”
“I believe she will.”
There is your hope, Remiel. He will live for the day she returns to him.
Zan had never dreaded a day at work quite like she dreaded this one. She walked down Chestnut Street, willfully reminding herself that she loved the city in the early morning. Even the massive Second Empire facade of the Victory Building seemed serene, its ornate cornices bathed in pinkish light. She needed all the serenity she could get. Last night she had fallen apart. She was sure her puffy face told the story. Mel would question her. When Zan thought about what she should tell her friend, her brain fried with anxiety. She couldn’t tell her a thing about Rainer’s evidence.
I can’t? Or I won’t? I don’t even know.
She had fled from Rainer before they had a chance to discuss the logistics of this whole crazy mess. She hadn’t even taken the evidence. She’d have to contact him again, and soon. Everyone wanted to move fast on this.
An empty office greeted her. She opened Joselet’s report and tried to do some hard thinking about her approach while it was quiet. She hated that her need for Rainer had won out over the case, but she had too much to do to fall down that hole.
This case would be languishing in a Philly PD file room if it wasn’t for me.
All things considered, her best approach was to use Rainer and Pellus as confidential informants. Zan had been working the case alone for a while. It was plausible that insiders would contact her if they wanted to take someone down. She would refuse to reveal their identity, claiming they feared for their lives.
Yeah. This could work.
She wouldn’t mention it today, not when she looked like she’d been crying all night. With spooky timing, Mel entered the room, took one look at Zan and said, “What’s the matter? You look like you’ve been crying all night.”
I need some girlfriend magic.
“I’ll tell you if you promise you won’t yell at me.”
“C’mon, Zan. We don’t have time for this shit.”
“I slept with Rainer. I couldn’t help myself.”
Mel sighed. “That would be because you’re crazy in love with him.”
“But I can’t be! I can’t be with him. And no, I can’t tell you why.” Zan sat up ultra-straight and blinked a few times. “I just realized how ridiculous I am. I should have kept this to myself.”
“I don’t know about that,” Mel said. Zan was surprised to see compassion in her partner’s eyes because she was right. They didn’t have time for this shit.
“I’ll tell you what, Zan. We need to contact a few agencies to set things in motion, but then the waiting begins. We can get out of the office. The Interpol call isn’t until this afternoon. We’ll take a walk.”
“Thanks, Mel. I don’t deserve you.”
“No, you don’t.”
Zan threw herself into the tasks at hand. She could do that much. She contacted Immigration and Customs with the names Joselet had discovered at the Camargue ranch house. She contacted the Secretary of Transportation’s office to have them check flight manifests. The idea was to find out if the men had come to Philadelphia at times that matched up with the rituals of sacrifice. Mel was chasing after financial information. Credit card activity in Philadelphia was the main goal, but any activity would be a great lead. Zan felt better, applying herself. She could almost ignore the ache in her chest.
Almost.
Around 11:00, Mel slapped her phone receiver back in its cradle. “So, you need some more time, or can we take our walk now?”
“I think I’ve called everyone I can call. Let’s go.”
Once they were outside, they walked towards Independence Hall. The day was sunny and crisp, Zan’s favorite kind of autumn day. The chill air and the quality of the light made everything vivid, yet flat like a painting. Today, it suited her.
My life does not seem real.
The two friends walked along 6th Street.
“Well, Zan. It’s time you know,” Mel blurted without warning. “I investigated Rainer.”
“What? I asked you not to do that!”
“I know, I know, but I couldn’t resist,” Mel said. “When you came back from speaking with him you seemed just as sad as you were angry. I couldn’t imagine what would make you stay away from him. Ever since I did it, I’ve been finding a million excuses not to tell you. I knew you’d be mad as hell.”
Zan fixed Mel with an unwavering glare.
“I want to believe he’s a good person,” Mel continued. “I have an instinct that he’s a good person, but I had to know if I was just being a rube.” She paused, her eyes darkening. Zan bunched her lips and tilted her head back, perfectly belligerent.
“You told me he’s not a criminal, but it sure seems like he is,” Mel continued. “When I started to look into him, all I found were companies, layers and layers of offshore companies.” Mel was completely unfazed by Zan’s scowl. “Take that lovely compound he lives in. It’s owned by a company formed on the Island of Jersey. He’s got a company in Luxembourg and one in—wait for it—Panama. I mean really, can you get any shadier? Good luck accessing the formation documents on any of those.”
“Unfortunately, tax shelters are not illegal,” Zan said dryly.
“Think that’s all it is? When I tried to find a person associated with his companies, all I found was a business agent, who of course is a lawyer, protected by the rules of client confidentiality. I can’t get any information about the member companies without a court order, which I have no reason to request. The man is clever, I’ll give him that.”
“And your point?” Zan asked, still glaring.
Mel glared back. “I don’t see why you’re getting pissy with me. You obviously know more about what he’s up to than I do. Why else would you leave him when you’re so stupidly, madly in love with him?”
The pain in Zan’s chest was back with a vengeance. She stopped, her arms hanging loosely at her sides.
I’m stupidly, madly something. He murdered thirty men. I should tell her.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “This must all seem insane.”
They were quiet as they walked to the park behind Independence Hall. They sat on a bench below the sycamore trees. The dappled trunks looked pretty in the brittle sunlight.
“I don’t know what to do, Zan. It makes me feel helpless. You know I hate that.”
“Yes, I know.”
“If you really want to move on, I’ll go after him. With a little work, I can find out what he’s up to. Get him kicked out of the country. That’ll teach him to go around lying to women, breaking their hearts.”
I wonder how long it would take Pellus to make anything incriminating disappear. The poor woman has no idea what she’s up against.
“Mel, please. I know you’re trying to make sense of this in the only way you know how, but what I said before still holds. Leave it alone. Take my word for it.”
Didn’t work before, won’t work now.
“Uh, that leaves me in a bit of a quandary, dear. I think the man is up to no good. I’m sorry you’re conflicted. So am I, but you can’t let criminal activity slide when you’re in the fucking FBI. You feel me?”
Zan stood up. She had the absurd desire to chase the squirrels who had come to see if the women would feed them. She turned to Mel, who was still sitting. She had to give her a reason to leave this be. Rainer and Pellus in handcuffs just wasn’t going to happen.
“All right, Mel. I’ll tell you this much. Rainer’s father is the one who’s the criminal. He’s a monster. He wants Rainer dead.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I’m deadly serious. I can’t get into it too much, but Rainer’s father is a heartless psychopath. That’s why Rainer came here. He’s hiding.”
“So, why doesn’t Rainer sic the law on him?”
“I told you, I can’t get into it.”
“Zan, you know I love you, but that’s kind of hard to believe. You sure he wasn’t lying to you about this, too?”
“Maybe I shouldn’t believe him, but I do.”
Mel frowned and stood up. “Which brings us back to your stupid, mad love.”
“It’s not love. More like addiction. And I will beat it.”
The two watched pedestrians pass into the square across the street. Mel suggested they grab some sandwiches and head back to the office. As they walked east to Fifth Street, Zan glanced at her partner.
My fucked-up life is not this stellar woman’s problem, but if she pursues this, it will get worse.
“Look, Mel. If you want to pursue this because you feel it’s your responsibility, I can’t stop you, but I’m asking you to trust me,” Zan said. “Rainer’s caught up in a tough situation. Just leave him alone, please.”
Mel pursed her lips. “He’s hurting you.”
“Yeah, well, if it’s any consolation, I think I’m hurting him, too,” Zan said in a voice so tremulous it caused Mel to grab her hand.
“All right, Zan, I’ll leave him alone. Part of me wants to, you know. I can’t forget what he did for Lucy. I guess the whole thing made me feel guilty. I needed someone to tell me it was okay.”
“I get it G-woman. I feel like a bad agent now.” They laughed, more in relief than because what Zan had said was funny. They headed off to get their lunch.
As they walked across the Great Plaza of Covalent City, Remiel and Osmadiel nodded to the citizens who offered their respectful greetings. The two were headed to the path along the Lake of Strands, a vast reservoir of energy filaments that glimmered with ghostly pallor in the starlight. They left the plaza and made their way through the narrow stone-lined alleys of the lower city. When they reached the lake and had gone far enough along its edge to gain privacy, Osmadiel asked Remiel to report on her conversation with Pellus. Remiel clutched at her deep blue robes as she walked, worried about the high commander’s reaction.
I must respond to her questions truthfully, but I will offer as little as possible.
“I spoke with the adept the turn before last, high commander. He informed me that Barakiel is suffering from a broken heart. We should have been able to guess that ourselves.”
“Nonsense. How could Barakiel love a Covalent deeply enough to experience such an upheaval when he has been so rarely in the Realm?”
Balance help me. What do I say?
The high commander squinted at Remiel. “The rumors are true then? About the Sylvan Three?”
“No.”
“Then who is the Covalent fortunate enough to have gained Barakiel’s heart?”
“She is not Covalent.”
“What?” Osmadiel raised her voice. “Listen here, commander. Stop playing this game. Tell me what I want to know.”
Remiel sighed.
Well, that little plan could not have failed more thoroughly.
“She is human, high commander.”
Osmadiel snorted. “You must be joking! The mightiest warrior in the Realm is in love with a human? That is the most insane thing I have ever heard.”
“I thought so too, high commander, but to hear Pellus speak, it not so strange. Barakiel has lived among the humans for most of his life. We did not allow him to partake of our society. His loneliness must have consumed him. He needed someone.”
“Barakiel is not the kind of Covalent who gives his heart merely out of need,” Osmadiel said. “He must love her savagely. He is acting as if he lost his mate.”
“I do not claim to understand, high commander. The adept did tell me that this human is extraordinary, a warrior among them.”
Osmadiel threw up her hands. “Well, she would have to be extraordinary, would she not?” The two Covalent watched the pooled strands move to and fro, gently pulsing.
“You spoke of her in the present tense,” Osmadiel said. “This means she is not dead. How did he come to lose her?”
Demon take her persistence. This is exactly what I did not want to tell her.
“Are you sure you want to know, high commander?”
“By the Balance, Remiel, you are trying my patience.”
Remiel clutched at her robes. “This woman discovered that Barakiel is not human,” she said. “She must have been confused and frightened. She left him.” Dipping her head, Remiel put some bass in her voice. “She knows what he is.”
The high commander tilted her head back and scrutinized her companion. After a moment, her expression softened.
“Ah, Remiel, you are wise. And correct. I do not want to know what could compromise me. Let us hope the situation resolves itself. Let us hope this confused human realizes what a gift she had been given.”
Zan’s cheek was flush with the surface of her desk. She stared at the keyboard right next to her head. It was filthy.
Why do I never clean my keyboard?
She got up and rummaged through Mel’s drawer until she found her partner’s rubbing alcohol. Then she went to the restroom and got a paper towel. She applied the alcohol to her keyboard with great care. Every once in a while, she glanced at her cell phone like she was expecting it to attack. When the keyboard was as clean as she could make it, she put the alcohol away and threw out the towel. She looked around the office.
Time’s up, O’Gara.
With the dangerous phone in her hand, she headed for the elevators. Mel was at a meeting with her daughter Lucy’s teachers. Zan needed to get this done. She went outside and crossed the street to the wide lawn next to the Visitor’s Center. She found a bench underneath the massive wisteria that grew along the rectangular brick structure, so the screen of her phone would be shielded from the sun.
► Please answer this text. We need to discuss the evidence.
Zan prayed Rainer was there. She was desperate to get this over with. As she waited, a string of tourists made their way to the National Constitution Center, the children running in big circles over the lawn.
So carefree, running for no reason.
She was just about to give up when the phone buzzed in her hand.
► How are you, Zan? I’m worried about you.
► This contact has one purpose. The evidence. I don’t think you should mail it. I’d like you to leave that pouch in a locker at 30th Street Station, then put the key in my mailbox.
► Don’t be so cold. It’s not necessary.
► You said you would help me. Are you going to help me?
► Yes. I’ll do as you ask.
► Thank you. FYI, I’m going to tell Mel and my boss that I have confidential informants. I won’t reveal your identity.
► Thank you.
► I’m not doing it for you. Stay away from Archibaud.
► Of course.
► The French police questioned him again. They say he is hiding something and terrified. I know you’re responsible.
► Yes, we visited him. We paid a lot of money for his silence.
► And terrified him.
► He is afraid of me.
► Imagine that. If he describes you, Mel will know. She’ll try to question you. You’ll need to disappear. I don’t want any violence.
► I would rather die than hurt someone you love.
► Are you saying you understand?
► Yes, but Archibaud will not describe me. Your colleagues will have no reason to pressure him once you have the evidence.
► I hope you’re right. When can you leave the pouch?
► Tomorrow morning.
► Thank you. Delete these texts. I’ll text again if I need anything else. Out.
It was over. She tipped her face toward the wisteria, trying not to cry. She bolted upright and hurried back to the office.
If he’s wrong about Archibaud, not only will I lose my job. I’ll be charged with obstruction.